As I lay Dying
by misticalcookie
Summary: Written for Starvation's monthly challenge.  Not everyone is happy with the rebellion.  Lives were destroyed, homes were ruined, families were ripped apart.  And it was all Katniss Everdeen's fault.


Written for Starvation's monthly challenge. This month's prompt is "Envy."

**As I lay Dying **

I walk through the burned town. My bare feet leave prints in the gray ash. They are cool, no longer hot and angry.

It didn't take long for the buildings to burn, for the people to be reduced to ashes. I'm probably walking on the bones of people I once knew.

It doesn't matter though. They are dead, they don't know that I am disturbing their souls by walking on their ashes.

My mouth is parched, I'm dying for water. But my needs mean little right about now. Because lying on a tattered bed in one of the only buildings still standing is my little sister.

I reach the building, hesitating at first. I don't know what to expect. Pain, suffering, screams. Too much to bear. But my little sister needs me. So I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I am about to witness.

The stench of rotting flesh fills my nose and I almost gag. The room is filled to the brim with people. All burned to pieces, barely alive and somehow clinging to the life. I don't envy them, but I feel their pain.

They look at me with envy, because I don't have a single burn on me. Because I somehow escaped the angry flames that ate everything they came in contact with.

I see people that I know, but I'm only looking for one face. My sister's.

I find her on the brink of life and death. Her eyes are closed, her chest is barely moving. I reach her side and take her hand in mine.

"Hey," I whisper. Her lids fling open and her gorgeous green eyes find mine. The only part of her that hasn't been ruined by the fire. A small smile appears on her burned flesh as she recognizes me. She can't speak, her throat has been burned to pieces. She no longer looks like my sister, but she is. I can feel it in my heart.

The little girl lying on the bed is my only family left. And she's dying. Just like everyone else in this room.

But it's either die or live the rest of her life with burns that will never heal. Burns that are both physical and mental.

I want to tell her to hold on. I want to tell her to fight for her life. But I know that's wrong. If she does pull through, she will never be the same. And I don't want to be responsible for her living in pain.

I will never be the same. I kneel next to her, gripping her hand and whisper words into her ear. I know she's listening.

I tell her stories about our past. When we were innocent children just playing in the meadow, chasing the butterflies and smelling the dandelions.

I can feel her spirit leaving her, and I know that soon she will be gone for good. Soon she will no longer be in pain.

But I will. In the greater scheme of things, my pain doesn't matter. Only my sister matters. Comforting her in the last moments of life.

"It's okay," I whisper, "I'll be fine."

She's always been my little tag-a-long. My shadow. I'm going to miss her. But she needs to know that I'll be okay without her. Even though I won't.

"I love you," I tell her as her eyes flutter. She blinks once, it's her way of saying _I know._

In an instant, she is gone.

I am in a room full of people.

Yet I am all alone.

I leave the building in shock and walk around aimlessly. I have no end in sight. It doesn't really matter where I go or what I do. Nothing matters anymore.

I find myself at the meadow where I used to play as a kid.

When I close my eyes, I can feel my sister by my side, begging me to play tag with her. But when I open them, I am still alone.

I fall to my knees and let the tears fall.

Ever since that girl decided to start the rebellion, my life has been shot to pieces. It's her fault my parents are dead, her fault my sister just died in front of me. She had no right to start that chain of events that lead to death and destruction.

The fire didn't touch me physically, but it touched my sister, it killed her. And I wish that it had killed me too. Without my family, I am alone. No one should have to be alone.

I have never wished for death before this moment. But now it seems so peaceful. My sister is no longer hurting, she is no longer in pain. She doesn't have to witness this horrible world. But I do.

And for that, I envy her.

The ashes blow around me in the wind, settling on my hair and shoulders.

I envy the dead.


End file.
